Someone write me a requiem.
Listening to: Taps
So. With this final preseason Bronco game finishing up and Husker season so close I can smell the sweaty players, I have been officially deemed.... a football widow. I always thought that it was just the cutest little moniker given to those adorable, make-you-sick couples where the boy gets sucked into whatever game is on and the girl waits patiently beside him, holding the buffalo wings and fetching Coors.
Fuck that noise.
Look. I am a Colorado Buffalo. Do you know what that means to me? Absolutely nothing! I am from Colorado, I cheer for the Buffs. I go to school in the CU system, I cheer for the Buffs. I do not follow the going ons of training camp, nor do I have a clue as to who the starting quarterback is (Ross would say this merely proves that I am, in fact, a Buff). I don't bleed black and gold. I can sing the fight song, but that's only because that was the school song for my high school. I know that Gary Barnett is better somewhere else than here and Jeremy Bloom is hot.
But I have been dragged into this really bizarre universe where all the walls are painted Cornhusker Red. I thought it was really sweet when Ross and I started dating and it would be weeks in between dates because he was driving back to Lincoln for games (but God bless his little heart, he hasn't been back for one since).
Little did I know.
I had no idea that I would be sitting in the middle-of-nowhere Nebraska, surrounded by rabid husker fans, when the question would arise.... "Where do you go to school, Jen?"
"CU"
I'm pretty sure my picture is still on a voodoo doll and they are preparing Ross for excommunication from the Church of Crazy Fandom.
They find out where I'm from and, for some bizarre reason, they either scream at me or make gay jokes. But it's nice to know that I could run over their grandmothers and my defense would always be, "I can't help it. I'm a Buff".
I'm only trying to psych myself up for an impending trip to the red planet (and I don't mean Mars), where a game will be commencing during a wedding we are attending, which I'm learning is a true exercise in ego on the bride and groom's part.
And I'm wearing the most glorious black dress where the neckline falls to my bellybutton.
But that's ok, because I'm a Colorado Buffalo.
So. With this final preseason Bronco game finishing up and Husker season so close I can smell the sweaty players, I have been officially deemed.... a football widow. I always thought that it was just the cutest little moniker given to those adorable, make-you-sick couples where the boy gets sucked into whatever game is on and the girl waits patiently beside him, holding the buffalo wings and fetching Coors.
Fuck that noise.
Look. I am a Colorado Buffalo. Do you know what that means to me? Absolutely nothing! I am from Colorado, I cheer for the Buffs. I go to school in the CU system, I cheer for the Buffs. I do not follow the going ons of training camp, nor do I have a clue as to who the starting quarterback is (Ross would say this merely proves that I am, in fact, a Buff). I don't bleed black and gold. I can sing the fight song, but that's only because that was the school song for my high school. I know that Gary Barnett is better somewhere else than here and Jeremy Bloom is hot.
But I have been dragged into this really bizarre universe where all the walls are painted Cornhusker Red. I thought it was really sweet when Ross and I started dating and it would be weeks in between dates because he was driving back to Lincoln for games (but God bless his little heart, he hasn't been back for one since).
Little did I know.
I had no idea that I would be sitting in the middle-of-nowhere Nebraska, surrounded by rabid husker fans, when the question would arise.... "Where do you go to school, Jen?"
"CU"
I'm pretty sure my picture is still on a voodoo doll and they are preparing Ross for excommunication from the Church of Crazy Fandom.
They find out where I'm from and, for some bizarre reason, they either scream at me or make gay jokes. But it's nice to know that I could run over their grandmothers and my defense would always be, "I can't help it. I'm a Buff".
I'm only trying to psych myself up for an impending trip to the red planet (and I don't mean Mars), where a game will be commencing during a wedding we are attending, which I'm learning is a true exercise in ego on the bride and groom's part.
And I'm wearing the most glorious black dress where the neckline falls to my bellybutton.
But that's ok, because I'm a Colorado Buffalo.
posted by jenfromtheco | 8:38 PM
3 Comments:
Jen is the gave v CU? If so wear your CU colors get all war painted up and tell them to bring it on...might as well suffer for being a buff proudly eh? Oh and make sure to use the EXTRA SPECIAL words from the fight song hehe :) Im a fellow buff alum
Lol.... no, that's always over Thanksgiving (which I never knew until Ross came along)... we did get invited by a couple of his friends to THAT game. If we go, I will certainly be the lone black (and gold) sheep in a sea of red...
I love the Football Widow title. You know I love to watch my Broncos but since they rarely show those games on the East Coast I get stuck watching the Jets (or some other random team I don't give a crap about). There go my nice cuddly Sundays for the next 6 months.
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